A Little Witch
by KeepCalmFanFicExists
Summary: Harry is visiting Andromeda and Teddy shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, when Bellatrix' legacy reaches them by mail. What is it really, and how will Andromeda react to her estranged sister's final statement?


_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the books mentioned here and I'm not making money in any way from this._

_This fic is dedicated to Myrtis who died on Christmas Day at the age of four from a brain tumor. She loved reading and listening to stories, so this is for her. Rest in Peace, girl._

_A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett is book written in the late 1880's to early 1900's and is considered one of the best books for children._

Harry woke up gloomy that morning, even though he had slept well enough. He needed a moment to remember that the small unfamiliar bedroom belonged to the Tonks' and that he was there for the second of a four-week stay to get to know his little godson better and help his guardian look after him.

As everything came back to him, the initial unease grew stronger. Andromeda had not been very excited to have him around at first, as she was deep in her grief and probably saw him as an invader. The truth was, he saw himself as an invader too.

But the days started passing, and the grief, instead of sharp and breathtaking, became more subtle, coming and going in waves. These were the parts that made Harry most uncomfortable. When Andromeda was feeling okay, she was polite to Harry and patient with his mistakes in baby care, but when her emotions seemed to take over, she would shut him out completely and he didn't know what to do. Once or twice he tried to speak to her, talking openly about the people he loved and had lost. She had remained impassive, as if she hadn't been listening, until he had mentioned Sirius. Then she had stormed out of the room without a single word, leaving him alone to console a wailing baby. Perhaps she still missed him too, or perhaps she was reminded of her sister, he hadn't dared ask. No, their conversations mainly revolved around baby creams and food and how to change the sheets quickly enough after the baby has thrown up so he could get some sleep.

It was a shame really, Harry thought, because he would have really liked to come to know Andromeda; he admired her for her strength and spirit, and she was also the last link to Sirius and even Lupin and Tonks. For some reason, he was under the impression Andromeda believed he associated her with her sister, Bellatrix, and thus could never like her. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that, so he never said anything about it. It was better going around with their daily routine and talking about pancakes, yes.

He squeezed himself into the tiny kitchen to find Andromeda already awake, of course, but little Teddy was not there.

"Good morning, Harry," Andromeda greeted him from over the pan, without bothering to turn around. "Didn't you hear the baby screaming all night? He has a fever and colic, and he wouldn't take the bottle. I gave him some pain-relief potions and he's asleep now, but I can't do everything by myself, you know. And Slughorn tells me you're a great potioneer..."

She shook her head in disapproval. Apparently, Harry figured, she was not in the best of moods and he couldn't help but wonder why.

"I'm sorry," he said "I missed it. But tonight I'll do all the work, I promise, you can get some rest."

Andromeda just nodded, put some pancakes on a plate and pushed it towards him.

"I'll go get the mail. I'll check if the decree on Aurors has been published, yes?"

"Yeah, thanks," he smiled, as his mind went to Kingsley's promise of accepting everyone who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts as an Auror without taking any N.E.W.T.s.

He waited for her to deliver any news from the outside world as he finished the whole stack of pancakes and cleaned the plate, but Andromeda was not back by then. Fearing she had inevitably fallen again into one of her phases, he walked carefully through the narrow hallway and into the living room. Andromeda was sitting on the sofa completely still, her eyes fixed on a package on her lap. Letters and the morning paper were scattered on the floor, but she didn't seem to have noticed.

Harry stared at the bizarre scene for a while and then the war-paranoia stuck him.

"Andromeda? Andromeda, is that package safe? Do you need help?"

No answer.

"Andromeda!"

"Open it," she offered him the rectangular parcel. Now he could see it up close, he noticed the wrapping paper had been slightly torn on one side and the colour wasn't vibrant, as if it had been exposed to the sun for a long time. Reluctantly he accepted it.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not to you."

He struggled with the wrapping paper for a while, for it was old and almost broke at touch, until he managed to retrieve what looked like a makeshift children's book. It was quite large and thick, but apparently that was due to the thickness of its pages, not from actual length. The cover was blue with white lace, forming the words "A Little Witch". Pieces of fancy paper in bright colours were sticking out of it, and, if Harry wasn't mistaken, the book seemed to be vibrating softly, as if by its magic. It was aching to tell them its story. Harry cast a quick look at Andromeda; she was looking at anything but the book on his lap. Considering it a silent permission, he opened a random page somewhere in the beginning.

Harry gasped in surprise with what he saw: it looked like a child's drawing of a part of Diagon Alley, only it was coming out of the paper, a bit like those 3D Muggle books, but without the special strings and slits of paper one requires. A man with a head like a potato was holding a little girl from the hand, as she pointed the sole finger of her hand at a shabby shop's window, where another girl with long eyelashes and auburn hair stood. The first girl was jumping up and down with excitement and, when Harry tapped the page with his wand, real tiny fireworks exploded over the page's surface.

At the left bottom of the page a small parchment was rolled. Harry unrolled it and read the text written in elegant archaic handwriting:

_Sarah and her father had been looking for days for Emily and yet they had not found her. They had looked every kind of doll there was: dolls that were as tall as Sarah and tiny ones that could fit in her pocket; naked dolls and dolls with trunks full of their belongings; blondes, brunettes and redheads. None of them was the one that would be her real friend and companion during all these years she would spend at school. One day they had decided to just walk down Diagon Alley without visiting any shops, when Sarah jumped excitedly, her eyes sparkling. _

_"That's Emily, Daddy, that's her! Let's go inside and get her!"_

Harry smiled. He put the parchment back and turned more pages. All of them followed the same pattern. The drawings seemed to have been created at different parts of a child's life, as they differed in maturity. Some looked good enough to come from a child shortly before puberty, while others could have been drawn even by a toddler.

It was a very interesting project, Harry thought, showing the progress of a little witch's life and style through the story. It wasn't part of The Tales of Beetle the Bard and neither Ron nor Ginny had ever mentioned it, but it should be holding some special meaning to Andromeda, because she had turned her back to him and was sobbing quietly in her apron. He had never seen her cry and so he felt bad for what this little book was causing her. Harry put it down on the sofa and stood up to leave Andromeda alone. He had reached the kitchen door, when a heavy sob made him turn around. Andromeda looked positively petrified.

Harry run towards her and read over her shoulder the piece of writing that had caused her crying. It was on the inside of the cover page. In the same medieval handwriting was written:

_Now that you come of age I thought you'd like to have something to remind you where you started off, who you are and where you are going, in your own words, with your own imagination. Happy Birthday, sister, welcome to the grown-up world!_

Harry looked puzzled, first at the text and then at Andromeda, who was now sitting again normally on the sofa, her eyes set on her lap.

"The last time I saw this, I was holding my suitcase and was on my way to meet Ted at his parents' house," Andromeda stated impassively. "It was lying on my bed at the house I grew up. It was my birthday present."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to this confession, yet he opened his mouth, only Andromeda didn't seem to notice. She continued talking, always addressing her apron.

"I had no idea what it was, I thought- I don't know- that it was some kind of Advanced Magic kind of book, one of those my sister liked to read. I was angry to see it there. I couldn't believe that instead of the celebration of my seventeenth, my coming-of-age, they'd be giving me more homework to 'educate and refine the most outstanding part of the wizarding community', as they would tell us. I left and never looked back. Never bothered to open it..."

Silence followed her words.

"You couldn't have known," Harry told her kindly. "And even if you'd seen it in time, would that have changed your decision? You'd already decided to leave them and stay with Ted."

Andromeda nodded with her eyes closed.

"That's true," she whispered, "that's true. But, you know, it's not that she didn't give me stuff to study what makes the difference. That's my whole childhood there," she pointed at the book.

"My mother was... well, she wasn't really a mother after our father died. She never cared, she never took the time to get to know us. She'd spend whole days locked in rooms with blinding headaches and, when she'd come out, she was always so cold, like she didn't care. And she probably didn't. So Bellatrix took the role of the mother, even though she was a small child herself. She helped us get dressed and bathed, ordered around the house-elves and checked under the beds for ghouls and Dementors." Andromeda let out a bitter little laugh.

"She even told us bed-time stories. Some were pre-existing, some she made up just for us. Actually Narcissa and I had some really rough fights regarding the story we'd hear before bed. Her favourite was _The Lost Unicorn, _mine was_ A Little Witch. _My sister started it first and then we kind of continued it together. It's about a little witch, Sarah, whose daddy is a very wealthy pureblooded man; his beloved wife died at childbirth and therefore he and Sarah are very close. At some point he has to send her to school where she's a role model for the other students: kind-hearted, smart, she enchants them with stories she makes up on her own. But then her dad dies while she's still at school and leaves her with nothing, she's forced to become a servant to the school. She works hard and is mistreated every day, yet she never forgets where she came from and how she's supposed to behave, be kind and always try to achieve the best she can for her and others. In the end, an old family friend, Uncle Tom, finds her and tells her that her daddy didn't leave her with nothing, but with a fortune twice as large as the previous one, and adopts her.

It's a beautiful story, really, I had totally forgotten about it. Well, I guess we both forgot parts of it..." Andromeda muttered sadly. "I have no idea where and when we went so devastatingly wrong. We used to- to-" she stopped, slightly out of breath. Her eyes were getting oddly wild, looking around with desperation, as if the walls would suddenly spit out a clear and easy explanation why her family had been destroyed so cruelly. But, of course, the walls remained still and it fell upon Harry to speak. But what could he say?

"It wasn't your fault, they made their choices, you made yours, only yours were better."

"Yeah, I guess, but I could have helped her. She had been looking after me since I was a toddler, why couldn't I have done something for her when she needed my help? Maybe then none of all this mess would have happened!"

"You couldn't have helped her, no one could have..."

"Well, I didn't even try, though, did I? I just packed my stuff and left, went on to my happy, silly little life. And then all hell broke loose and here we are! If there's one thing this," she pointed at the book again, " was about, it was about never giving up, trying and trying again, and not forgetting about your beliefs and sticking with family!" Andromeda paused.

"And forgiving, the story was about forgiving, as well. That old friend, Uncle Tom, had originally contributed in Sarah's dad losing his gold, only he was mistaken and the money was saved. He couldn't remember where Sarah had been placed, resulting in her working like a slave for years, and yet, when everything came to light, she embraced him like a real uncle. But I can't forgive her, Harry, I just can't, not after what happened, not after what she did... And- and I'm afraid I'll carry this weight with me, this-this guilt, forever.

I know what you're going to say," she prevented him, when she saw him opening his mouth to speak," and you're right, I'm not the one who should be feeling guilty, she's done more horrible things to me that I could have ever imagined happening to her. And yet, I still feel like that... Because I can't let go that once she was the one who saved me from beatings and took the blame even when it was my fault, and told me stories about values that everyone should carry around every day."

Harry nodded. "There's nothing rational about feelings, Dumbledore told me that and he had some experience. Love makes us blind."

They stood side-by-side on the couch for a while, not saying anything to contradict the statement.

"I never thought she might have felt something else than hatred towards me, you know. Never. I still can't believe that she sent me this now." Andromeda laughed harshly. "From all the things she could tell me or give me with her will, she chose that bloody book!" And with a violent move, she took out her wand and tapped the old book with such force, it caught fire. The white and blue flames quickly started licking and destroying Andromeda's old drawings and she hurried to mutter the counterspell, only it had no effect. The book continued to burn in front of their eyes, rapidly disintegrating into a neat pile of grey ashes.

Andromeda let out another cry: "No! No- I didn't mean to-" she searched pointlessly the ashes for just a piece of the birthday present. She didn't find the tiniest piece of paper, but something else seemed to have been pushed up to the surface; something heavy that glistened in the morning sunshine. It was a signet ring and Harry easily recognised the Black family's coat of arms on it. Both pair of eyes opened wide at the treasure and Andromeda stretched her hand to reach it, only the ring rolled away by an invisible force, as if the hand and itself had the same magnetic charge. In the end, they had to magically lift it up in the air to examine it further.

"Do you think it's real?" said Harry in a whisper, not sure why he wasn't using his real voice.

"Yes," Andromeda replied easily, "this is the Black Family Ring, my father wore it when he was alive, then my mother, then my sister. According to tradition, the eldest of the Black Family has to wear it every day proudly. But why the hell did she give it to me?"

"Well, you're next as far as age goes, right?"

"Sure, but I'm not a part of the family anymore, I can't wear it, I can't even touch it."

"Then- then maybe she wanted you to just have it. Or maybe keep it for someone?"

" For whom? Teddy? Or maybe..." Andromeda's eyes became vacant and her voice trailed off. "Maybe she wanted me to give it to someone," she concluded. Suddenly, her expression relaxed.

"So_ this_ is what Bellatrix left us in her will," a smile now lit her face and she stood up, whipping the wetness from her eyes. "I've got to go get dressed, will you look after the baby while I'm gone?"

"Where are you going?"

"To Malfoy Manor. Someone is one family heirloom short."

_A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think._

_This fic can be associated with "A Challenging Role", which has been published some time ago. Just for some extra insight. _


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